Loser
by PenBeatsSword
Summary: Everyone has a story. Sometimes a person's story starts before things get interesting. Sometimes it is interesting before it gets interesting. Sometimes people join glee clubs. Isabel has struggled her entire life to be accepted. When she briefly experiences it and then is torn away from security, she will then meet 11 other people that finally give her home. SEASON 0 EPISODE 1


_Season 0, Episode 1_

_Antemusica_

Isabel flinched as the car door slammed behind her, and she walked away from her dad's Chevrolet, quickly heading towards the front door of Between the Sheets, her favorite music store.

"You have twenty minutes! I'm going to go get a coffee!" her dad called, and she flashed him a thumbs up, wanting to get away from him as soon as possible. The bell ringed as she opened the door, the scent of paper and aroma candles hitting her as soon as she stepped inside. Is checked her hand where she had written a few song titles, and began browsing through the aisles. It wasn't long before she had found some good music, and she turned excitedly to the next aisle, only to bump into a sturdy figure, knocking her to the floor. Her short stature was a disadvantage at times like these.

"Are you okay?" She looked up a pair of concerned honey brown eyes, which belonged to a boy with curly black hair, broad shoulders, skin like dark honey, and triangular eyebrows. He was holding out his hand, which Isabel noticed to be smooth, except for the pads of the fingers, which were strong and calloused.

_A guitar player,_ she thought instantly. Is took the offered hand, allowing herself to be lifted up.

"Wow, you're light," said the boy, with a dapper smile.

"It comes with being a hobbit. Sorry about that. Wasn't looking where I was walking," she replied.

"Hey, we short people gotta stick together!" he joked, and Isabel noticed he was only a few inches taller than her, "My name's Blaine Anderson."

"Isabel Mauren. Nice to meet you, Blaine," Is said, shaking his hand.

"What'cha got, there?" Blaine asked, gesturing to the stack of music she clutched between her sleeved arms.

"Nothing too interesting, just some Queen, _Les Mis, _and of course some Gaga… You?"

"Katy Perry and Train," he replied, proudly displaying the titles.

"_Peacock_?" she asked incredulously. Blaine blushed.

"It's catchy," he mumbled.

"So is 'Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me', but I don't go getting sheet music for that,"

"Hey, RHPS is classic!"

"And sexual. You do know every word of Peacock is a euphemism for a man's obviously _magnificent _and _splendorous _penis-"

"Stop it! And I'm pretty sure splendorous isn't a word,"

"Look it up in the dictionary, hobbit,"

"You are shorter than me, you know that, right?"

"Shut it. Come on, we're going to find you a better song,"

Isabel grasped Blaine's wrist, pulling him over to the pop/hip-hop sections, where she thumbed through the pages until reaching the Katy Perry section. She held the spot open with her fingers, holding her hand out to Blaine.

"Give," she commanded, and sighing, Blaine handed over Peacock, which she nestled back into its proper place for some other idiot to find.

"What about this one? 'The One that Got Away'?"

"Ooh, that one's good," he cooed, taking it, "What's that one?"

She peered into the rack, squinting at the title on the slightly battered piece.

"Teenage Dream. Have you heard that one?"

"A few times. I'll give it a try,"

"Good. There, see, you got rid of the world's WORST dick metaphor, and you have two heartfelt songs by the same artist,"

"Yay, accomplishment!"

"After this, you wanna get a coffee?"

"Sure!"

The two made their way back to the checkout, chatting idly about the top 40, while Isabel complained about the lack of popularity for rock songs, comparing iPod tracks, and spent a good 10 minutes gushing about Broadway while they made the walk from Between the Sheets to the Lima Bean.

"Medium drip, please," ordered Blaine, leaning on his elbows on the counter.

"Medium café latte with cinnamon, no foam," she ordered.

"Ooh, high maintenance, are we?" he teased.

"No, I just know what I like, and that happens to be sugar and cinnamon with a little coffee on the side. Sadly, the first cup of coffee I ever had was a delicious special cinnamon latte from Starbucks they had as a promotional thing for Christmas. No cup I have had since has lived up to it,"

"Well, that sucks. Kind of like hearing a song by somebody and it's the most amazing thing ever, like ice cream is being scooped into your ears, and you listen to it a million times and then you learn the artist has MORE songs and you listen to them expecting them to be as amazing as the first one but they're not and you weep in the corner,"

As Blaine finished his mini-speech, he stared at Is expectedly.

"That was… detailed,"

He blushed, "It's happened a few times…"

"Hey, same here," she bumped shoulders with him, smiling.

_I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship._

_-_LINE GOES HERE-

"And so I told him, you better not bring that damn ficus over here!"

Isabel burst into laughter, covering her mouth as her eyes sparkled with mirth.

"You did not!" she replied.

"I did indeed," Blaine said, looking very smug. She opened her mouth to retort, but cut off as she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Pulling it out, she unlocked it and looked at the name.

Dad. Shit.

Is knew she was in trouble before she even read the message, and after, her heart sank even lower.

"Dammit! I'm so so sorry, Blaine, I have to go, I was supposed to meet up with my dad like 15 minutes ago-"

"Hey, it's cool. I understand. Here, gimme your phone for a sec,"

As she quickly put her sheet music into her shoulder bag, Is handed him her phone. She didn't pay attention as to what he was doing with it, but when she looked back up, he was holding it up, in her contacts with a new one added- Blaine.

"Lemme do you,"

"Ooh, aren't we forward?" he chuckled as he waggled his eyebrows and handed over his phone. Isabel quickly tapped her number into it, adding her name into his contacts.

"I'll see you around!"

"Bye!"

Giving him one last wave over her shoulder, she turned to exit, and once sure she was out of view, began to run towards her dad's car. He was sitting in the driver's seat, the ignition running, seatbelt on, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel with an impatient look on his face.

_You're late._

_Get your ass back to the car right now, or I'm leaving without you._

Hopefully he wouldn't be _too_ mad. He had gotten a coffee, and caffeine usually calmed him down, but as Isabel got closer to the car, and he looked up, saw her, and his eyes turned murderous, she knew that was not the case this time.

"Dammit," she murmured under her breath, opening the door and plopping down in the passenger side.

"You're late,"

"I know,"

He smacked her on the back of her head.

"Don't get smart with me,"

Isabel shut her mouth, deciding not to take chances.

"I told you twenty minutes. TWENTY. And here we are, an hour later-"

"-It's only been forty-five minutes-"

He smacked her again, "Shut it. Can't you tell time, or do I need to send you back to first grade so you can learn? I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted to, as well, you've got the maturity of a first grader."

Her eyes stung with unshed tears. Whenever he hit her, it was fine, the bruises faded and stopped hurting after a while, but the marks from his words never did. Every time, after he yelled at her, she would feel useless and pathetic for days. He noticed her moist eyes and sneered.

"And now you're a crybaby, too. Shit's sake, Isabel, I did NOT raise a damn pansy!"

Knowing that crying would only get her slapped again, she merely sulked lower in her seat. Her dad scoffed and turned the key, stepping on the gas and driving out of the parking lot.

The ride home was silent, the only sounds her dad's muttered cursing at teenage drivers, the rumble of the engine, and the sound of other cars rushing by. As soon as the car pulled in the driveway, Is unbuckled her seatbelt, opened her door, and jumped out, not even waiting for her dad to turn off the ignition. She stomped up the stairs, pulled her door shut, and sat at the keyboard in her room, turning it on and staring at the keys for a few minutes, before letting her head fall against them in frustration. Of _course_ she had to be in a singing mood when she didn't know what to sing.

Her eyes fell to the packets of sheet music laying next to her on the bench. One of the titles caught her eye. She had just bought it today, even after ten years of singing the _Les __Misérables_soundtrack.

_I guess it'll do._

Isabel opened the book and laid it on the stand, softly playing the intro. After a few seconds, she let her fingers work on their own, and focused on the words. Playing piano was really the only time she felt comfortable in her own skin. She had taken piano lessons from when she was 5 to when she was 12, and had only recently stopped in favor of playing by herself. There was no better feeling than feeling than the keys against her fingers.

_God on high_

_Hear my prayer_

_In my need_

_You have always been there_

_He is young_

_He's afraid_

_Let him rest, heaven blessed_

_Bring him home_

_Bring him home_

_Bring him home_

Her eyes misted over at the decrescendo. This was the most beautiful song in the musical, in her opinion, and she silently vowed to learn to play the violin someday to do it justice.

_He's like the son I might have known_

_If God have granted me a son_

_The summers die one by one_

_How soon they fly on and one_

_And I am old_

_And will be gone_

_Bring him peace_

_Bring him joy_

_He is young, he is only a boy_

_You can take_

_You can give_

_Let him be_

_Let him live_

_If I die, let me die_

_Let him live_

_Bring him home_

_Bring him home_

_Bring him home!_

As the final note faded out, her fingers rested on the keys, and Isabel smiled, feeling satisfied. She was just about to pick another song, when an angry yell came from downstairs.

"SHUT THE HELL UP! I can't hear the game over your damn caterwauling!"

Her inner fire flickered, then faded. No amount of talent would make her father love her.

This time, she let the tears fall.

-LINE GOES HERE-

The next month passed by in a blur. Isabel and Blaine became instant best friends, texting constantly, and walking to every class together after they discovered they went to the same school. Of course it was inevitable that he would meet Aspen.

Aspen was, aside from Blaine, her best friend. They had met in study hall on the first day of school, and had spent countless hours whispering and laughing in the back corner of the library since then.

Without a doubt, Isabel though Aspen was the most beautiful girl in the world. She was Irish-Italian, with short curly hair, brown eyes, and smooth porcelain skin that was mostly devoid of the freckles that plagued gingers. Despite being one of the least-liked people in the school(aside from Is herself), she was always happy, which Is found weird. Why smile so much? But Aspen's happiness was infectious, another reason why Isabel loved her.

No homo, of course.

…

Oh, alright. _Very _homo.

The thing was, she had never liked boys. Sure, she admired the physique of the "gorgeous" guy celebrities her classmates drooled over, but she didn't feel any emotion towards them. She had tried to like them, she had put up all the shirtless posters she could find(which had resulted in her dad calling her a pervert and her taking them down a week later and giving them away) but whenever she looked at them her mind always strayed to a certain redhead.

She had become a victim of Cupid, and was knee-deep in love for another girl. Of course Is had tried to fight it, being a Christian and growing up being taught it was wrong, but eventually her heart won over her mind. She could probably stay in the closet until college, but by then she and Aspen would probably be going their separate ways.

Isabel tried not to think about it.

Of course, after Blaine met Aspen, he had insisted on the three of them going to see a movie together. So here she was, halfway through the Lion King reboot, sitting between her two best friends and trying not to think about how date-like the situation was. Also, she was trying not to freak out about how she and Aspen were sharing an armrest, their arms linked together and lying on the armrest between them.

Aspen and Blaine had sung "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" quietly together, while Is thanked the inventor of the movie theater that it was dark. _Then _she had clutched Is' hand during the fight between Simba and Scar, cheering as the hyenas overtook the villain.

"I love that movie. Classic," Blaine commented as they walked out of the theater.

"It's always been interesting to me that that movie is _Hamlet _for kids. Same plot and all," Aspen said.

"Theater geek," teased Isabel.

"Takes one to know one,"

They took out their phones, turning them on and checking for messages.

"My brother's here to pick me up. See you Monday,"

The three of them shared hugs, and Isabel coughed awkwardly as he walked out the door.

"I'm glad we did this. It's been a while since we've done anything together," said Aspen. Of course she had to say something like that. Yup, there comes the blushing. She cocked her head expectantly, like she expected Isabel to say something.

She opened her mouth, but the only thing that came out: "I love you."

Time froze. Aspen's captivating eyes widened. She felt her heart stop, her stomach sinking down to her feet. Oh no.

"I-I mean…"

Is swallowed, taking a deep breath. If she was going to do this (which her body certainly seemed to think she should) then she was going to do this _right_, damn it.

"I've never really stopped and given myself time to figure out who I am. But when I see you, I know. And one thing is clearer than anything I've ever known: I'm _gay_, dammit," her voice wavered, threatening to crack, but she continued.

"And I know that, with my religion, people don't accept people like me. They say it's wrong, but…" tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to fall, "when I look at you, it feels right. And I can't imagine feeling any other way."

They were both crying at this point. Isabel's voice had given out; she didn't trust herself to speak.

_Please don't hate me, please don't hate me._

"Isabel…"

_Oh God, she's going to reject me and hate me, what if she tells the whole school?_

"…I swear, if we weren't in a crowded movie theater in close-minded Lima, Ohio, I would kiss you."

"_I would kiss you."_

The words repeated themselves over and over in her head. She felt frozen in time. Warm fingers closed over her shaky hand, leading her out of the theater, and off to the side of the building, behind a dumpster. Aspen leaned in.

Yup. _There_ was the fluttery feeling that always popped up around the other girl.

Tears mingled between their faces.

"I love you, too," breathed Aspen.

They stayed that way for awhile, Aspen's arms looped around Is' neck, with her arms around her waist, until she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket.

_I'm here._

"My dad's here," she murmured, reluctantly removing herself from Aspen's embrace.

"I'll walk you over," Aspen linked their arms, walking over until they were almost to the car. As almost an afterthought, Isabel kissed her on the cheek.

"Are you going to tell him?" asked Aspen glanced at her dad, who was smoking a cigarette and cursing at the tree-shaped air freshener.

"Hell no,"

* * *

**Hey there. You look bootylicious today. So this is an idea I've been working on for some time. Drop me a review, episode 2 will be out soon!**


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